


In Charge

by Dbaw3



Series: Stiles is the Best Girlfriend [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Genderplay, Genderqueer, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 12:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dbaw3/pseuds/Dbaw3
Summary: Stiles plays with fire.He doesn't get so much burned, though, as get exactly what he wanted.





	In Charge

Stiles was man–or possibly woman–enough to admit, he’d been a bitch recently. Not without reason, but at some point, it went from passive-aggressive battle with his boyfriend to wondering what exactly Derek would DO. 

He’d just been so horny that morning, and Derek had insisted he had to fucking leave for work and REFUSED to scratch the itch in Stiles’ pussy. Sure, Stiles had taken care of it himself with Spot, his knotted, wolf dildo, but it wasn’t the same. Wasn’t Derek’s whole alpha wolf, large and in charge, big, dom guy thing about taking care of his babygirl? What was the point of being his “princess” if her Highness couldn’t get her pussy seen to when needed?

So, yeah, Stiles was cranky most of that day, and maybe he had deliberately not done the laundry he knew needed to be done. (Since Stiles worked from home, it just made sense for him to do a lot of the normal daily chores around the loft. He’d been used to doing a lot of those things when it was just him and his dad, anyway, and he got kind of a nice warm glow when Derek teased him about being the perfect housewife some day, though Stiles always pretended to hate it.)

So when, the next morning, Derek went looking for a clean pair of boxer briefs and couldn’t find any, Stiles felt a little pang of guilt, but he also remembered Derek just getting up to go to WORK instead of fucking him like he should have the day before.

“Babe, did you not do the laundry yesterday?” Derek asked, still rummaging through the drawer as if the underpants gnome would show up with his briefs if he just kept looking.

And the presumption just really made Stiles’ irritation flare up again. “Hm,” he said, pretending to be absorbed with something on his phone. “Sorry, babe. Must have been too busy with other things.”

Derek looked over at him, definitely irritated himself, and asked in exasperation. “Now what am I supposed to do about underwear today? I have a meeting.”

Stiles looked up at him and smiled his most irritating smirk. “You could always borrow a pair of mine,” he said, fake sweet, and spread his legs to show of his satin, pink, g-string. 

Derek made a face at him. “Not my color,” he said, and turned to go take a shower.

Stiles smiled in triumph, and a little bit of heat at the idea that his boyfriend would be freeballing it all day.

From there Stiles would admit, at least to himself, that he pushed Derek just to see how far he could push the man. Whether it was ‘forgetting’ to finish some chore or another, or suddenly ‘remembering’ that he had an appointment with Deaton in the middle of giving Derek a blow job (but before his boyfriend came), he watched in amusement as Derek’s frustrations mounted and his patience ran out.

Stiles also MAY have asked Scott to call him at a particular time one evening, and timed it so he was riding Derek reverse cowgirl nice and slow when the phone rang. 

“It could be important,” Stiles insisted, getting off him, and tried not to wince at the loss himself when he ran to get his cell phone from the living room.

Stiles figured he might have pushed it too far, with the dinner out on Friday. They were supposed to meet Derek’s uncle Peter and his wife Ellen at a fancy restaurant in town.

Derek had, as he often did, laid out what he wanted Stiles to wear, which included a pair of black thong panties and stockings to go under the rather femininely cut slacks and shirt from Stiles’ closet. Stiles wasn’t even sure why he decided instead to wear the new, white set of underwear, along with a different shirt and slacks, other than he wanted to poke at his sourwolf more. Derek did a slightly irritated double-take, but didn’t comment when he noticed Stiles in different clothes than what he’d hoped.

Stiles had called Ellen earlier to explain his plan.

“Are you sure about this, Stiles?” Ellen said, sounding uncertain. “Playing games like that with anyone is not a good idea, but an alpha…”

“I just need him to not take me for granted, Ellen,” Stiles insisted. “Do you think Peter’s up for it?”

Ellen snorted. “Flirting? Peter’s always up for that.”

Things had thawed considerably with Derek’s family since his “coming out” as Derek’s “girlfriend.” He’d even gotten used to David, Derek’s father, referring to him in the feminine, and the rest of the family were starting to pick up on it, as well. Peter, as Ellen had said, had also become extra flirty with him after the revelations, though both he and Ellen made it clear it was all in good fun.

When they got to the restaurant, Stiles maneuvered the group so that Peter was next to him, and Derek and Ellen across from them. 

“I never just get to sit and talk with you guys,” Stiles said, innocently. Derek narrowed his eyes, but sat without comment.

After a small amount of casual conversation, they ordered. Normally, Derek would order for him, which Stiles had come to think of as sweet, as Derek knew what he normally liked, but when he started to get him steak frites (his usual go to at a classy place), Stiles interrupted, “Actually, I think I’ll have the fish instead.” Derek looked startled, but didn’t argue.

After the waiter left, Stiles took a drink of his water.

“You know, I’ve never understood why other people get so caught up in gender norms,” Peter said, the non-sequitor startling Stiles into choking on the drink he’d just taken.

After coughing, he looked over at Peter who had a half-teasing, half-seductive look on his face. Ellen just looked like she was trying not to laugh.

Stiles heard a slight, low level growling coming from across the table that they all chose to ignore, and decided to go with it. “Is that so?” he said.

“Of course,” Peter continued, “Binary thinking is so…limiting.” He stretched his arms out in an obvious fake yawn, then left his arm behind Stiles’ chair before leaning over and whispering to Stiles, “Personally, I like to keep my options open.”

The growling intensified, but they all still ignored it. 

Ellen stopped fighting and just burst out laughing, leaning across the table to tell Stiles conspiratorially, “He’s been trying to get me to agree to a threesome for years.” The idea didn’t seem to offend her, but from what Stiles knew of their relationship, it wasn’t particularly, to use Peter’s word, limited.

“Hey,” Peter said, fake pouting, “you can’t blame a guy for trying. Most men find the idea of two gorgeous ladies together,” and he turned back to Stiles and smiled at him, “hot.”

Stiles laughed, even as he felt his ears burn, though before he could respond (to either the flirting or the suggestion that he qualified as a lady), he felt his chair pulled suddenly away from the table.

Derek was standing directly behind him, eyes flashing red, and holding Peter’s wrist firmly behind his back.

Peter didn’t seem as worried as amused. “Don’t worry, nephew,” he said, “I’m only joking. No one’s trying to steal your girl.”

“Derek, really,” Ellen said. “You know Peter’s just trying to rile you up.”

Stiles glanced around, but while they were getting a few looks, no one seemed too concerned.

Nevertheless, Derek said through gritted teeth, “Stiles, can I talk with you in private?”

Stiles thought about arguing, but decided it was best not to push anymore, and got up with a wane smile to the others before following Derek to the restrooms.

Stiles could feel Derek directly behind him as he entered the Mens room following closely, but he was still startled when he found himself pressed into the sink counter, his hands pinned to the top.

“What,” Derek said in a much calmer voice than Stiles was expecting, “do you think you’re doing, I wonder?”

“I…” Stiles started to say, but was stopped by Derek plastering himself closer.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Derek continued. “Flirting with Peter, cockteasing me, not doing your chores. Someone’s feeling neglected.”

Stiles didn’t say anything, but whimpered as he felt Derek’s erection pressing into his ass through their clothes. 

“Ah, ah,” Derek scolded, though he ground his dick against Stiles. “Bad girls get punished before they get a reward. And you’ve been very bad.”

Stiles tried to grind back against him. “Derek, I–”

He let out a startled yelp when Derek suddenly slapped his ass. It wasn’t so much pain he felt, though, as arousal.

“Now, we’re going to go back out there and finish dinner with my family. You will NOT flirt with Peter, and you WILL listen to me,” Derek said, slapping his ass again. “And we will discuss,” another spank to his ass had Stiles moaning, “your behavior when we get home.”

Derek spanked his ass once more, then turned around and left. 

Stiles took a few minutes, leaning over the sink in front of him, trying to get his breath back. He was grateful he no longer got erections, otherwise he didn’t think he could have gone back out to the dining area. As it was, he concentrated on some of the lessons he’d been taking with Deaton in controlling his body, and willed himself not to get too wet with excitement.

It was a bit easier once he realized that the werewolves in the other room had to have heard them in here, and likely could smell his arousal. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet learned how to control his own blushing.

When he finally made himself go back out to the dining room, Stiles did not comment on the rearranged seating situation, which meant the only empty chair was now next to Derek, with Peter and Ellen sitting together across from them. He just sat next to Derek quietly and continued eating.

Derek kept one hand on his leg the rest of the night.

The others acted as if nothing unusual had happened, but Stiles sat quietly, trying to control both his arousal and frustration. When the meal ended, he could only feel relief as Derek led them to the car.

When they settled in the car, and for the entire drive home, Derek kept his hand on Stiles’ upper thigh, high enough up that his finger brushed against Stiles’ clit through his pants. Derek only moved his hand to shift the car, but then replaced it exactly where it was.

It was making Stiles crazy.

“Derek, I–” he started to say.

“Shush, babygirl,” Derek said firmly, without looking away from the road. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Stiles whimpered, and spread his legs to allow Derek better access. Derek only smiled and kept his hand in the same place, however.

Stiles’ anxiety about their “talk” even through his arousal, climbed, as Derek held open the doors for him, as usual, and led the way into the loft. 

When Derek closed the loft’s front door behind him, Stiles started to speak again, but Derek shushed him, then kissed him on the forehead.

“Go to the bedroom, strip down to your panties, and wait for me. I’ll just lock up,” he said, his voice soft, but firm. It was clear this was a command, not a request.

Stiles would normally argue, but decided he didn’t want to press his luck, and went to obey.

Once he got to their bedroom, he stripped off his shirt and pants, and looked down, remembering he had defied Derek’s request about both his clothes and his underwear earlier. He thought about taking off the garter and stockings, not sure if Derek’s command to stip to his panties would include them, but as he was debating whether to remove them, Derek came entered.

Derek walked around him, and Stiles noted he was still in his suit, his tie only loosened slightly. Stiles let himself admire how handsome his man was, even while his anxiety ratcheted up.

Derek sat down, moving Stiles to stand between his legs, and said, “Now, do you want to tell me what’s been going on?”

Stiles thought about the last week, and firmly said, “No.”

Derek smiled and shook his head, then ran his hand up and down Stiles’ right hip, fingering the garter where it held up his stocking. “Why don’t I tell you, then? I think my girl was feeling neglected and taken for granted. Is that right?”

Stiles thought about it, and nodded.

Derek moved his fingers across the front of Stiles’ garter belt, the heel of his hand almost casually brushing against his clit through his panties. Stiles shivered.

“I think my girl wanted me to pay more attention to her,” he continued, moving his other hand up so he was holding Stiles’ waist gently, as if he was delicate and breakable.

Stiles found himself quickly tipped over, spread across Derek’s lap. He protested at his sudden change of position, the sound muffled in the bedcover.

“I think,” Derek said more firmly, “that my girl needs to be reminded who the man of the house is.” With that, he brought his hand down in a firm spank against Stiles’ panty-clad ass.

Stiles yelped into the quilt under him.

Derek rubbed his hand against his ass. “These are so pretty on you, but I don’t think they’re what I asked you to wear, are they?”

Stiles tried to look over his shoulder, even while Derek held him down across his lap without any apparent effort. Stiles shuddered at his casual show of strength, and said, almost as a non-sequitor, “They’re from the bridal collection.”

“Mm,” Derek said, still rubbing. “You’re going to make me a beautiful bride some day.” Stiles felt a warm glow at that, but startled when he felt and heard his panties ripped off him. “But right now you’re only a bad girl. And bad girls need to be punished.”

The hard spank that followed made Stiles cry out. It hurt, but as the sting left, there was a warm glow. 

When the second blow landed, it nearly knocked the air out of him. 

There was a flurry of hard spanks that followed, and Stiles was gasping when Derek stopped, rubbing at his pinked cheeks. 

“You’re getting wet, baby,” Derek commented, just slightly parting his cheeks as if to check. “Is this turning you on?”

Stiles shook his head, but didn’t look back at Derek, and they both knew it was a lie.

“That’s good to know,” he continued, and ran one finger between Stiles’ cheeks, grazing his pussy hole, and making Stiles shiver. “But this is a punishment, not to give you pleasure.”

Derek’s next spank landed right below his ass cheeks, and fuck did that hurt.

“Now, I want you to count these out, baby,” Derek said before bringing his hand down again.

Stiles counted, obediently, until he was sobbing, trying to get the numbers out between his own cries. He lost track somewhere around twenty-two, but didn’t tell Derek to stop, even as he choked out “Please” over and over.

(Ages ago, when Stiles realized their sex life was going to be less than vanilla, Stiles had asked Derek if they should have a safe word. Derek, who was never a fan of games, looked at him as if he was an idiot.

“How about if you want me to stop, you tell me to stop?” he said slowly. Stiles, startled, had nodded.

He rarely ever told Derek to stop.)

Stiles was sobbing loudly into the bed, ass on fire, crying about how he would be a good girl from now on, when Derek finally finished the spanking and began rubbing his cheeks again.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “It’s all over now.” He raised Stiles up until he was cuddled on his lap. Stiles shuddered at the pain of his sensitive ass against Derek’s suit trousers, but curled up on his lap anyway, letting his tears play out. “That’s my good girl, you took it so well,” Derek praised him, and Stiles glowed inside at it.

When Stiles finally stopped crying, Derek brushed his tears away, kissing his wet face. “You’re my pretty girl,” Derek said, though Stiles doubted it right now; he knew he cried ugly. “Let me look at you, come on.”

Stiles followed his urging and stood on unsteady legs, turning so Derek could look at his ass.

“God, Stiles,” Derek said breathlessly. “Your pussy’s fucking gushing.” 

Stiles wasn’t doubting it. Even if he wasn’t aroused as hell, he could feel his own wetness on his thighs. Then Derek leaned forward and without warning drove his tongue inside of him.

Stiles cried out and was surprised he didn’t collapse, his knees still weak. He leaned forward slightly, giving Derek more room, and knowing he was so close.

Derek was apparently not interested in his usual marathon pussy-eating session, however, as he soon pulled back and turned Stiles around. “Come on, baby,” Derek said, urging Stiles to his knees, as he reached for his own zipper. “Suck my cock. Show your man how much you love it.”

Stiles dropped to his knees, and instantly sank down on Derek’s dick, moaning, as Derek pulled it out of his pants. 

God, he did love it, he thought, sucking up and down the dripping length. It was curved and long to hit all the right places inside of him. It was also wide enough to make a pleasant stretch in his pussy and his mouth, and Stiles loved how his jaw ached after sucking him.

“Yeah, babygirl,” Derek said, rubbing Stiles’ head. “Suck that dick. Show it how sorry you are for being such a bad girl.”

And Stiles did. He sucked, and licked, bobbing up and down in apology, loving the feel and taste of it. 

“Mm, I’m gonna come soon,” Derek told him, and Stiles doubled his efforts, wanting to taste that, wanting Derek’s cum in his mouth. 

“Fuck, stop,” Derek said, pulling Stiles’ head back by his hair, gently but firmly. “I need your pussy, baby.”

Which is when Stiles found himself on his back, legs spread in the hair, each foot in one of Derek’s hands. He was sobbing again as Derek’s cock breached him, this time at how good it felt, the pain in his ass against the bed only adding to his arousal.

“That’s right, baby,” Derek said, smiling down at him. “Give Daddy all that pussy. Who does that pussy belong to?”

“You, Daddy,” Stiles sobbed as Derek’s bush scratched against his sensitive skin. “It’s your pussy, Daddy.” 

“Yeah, babygirl, it’s Daddy’s pussy,” he repeated, and Stiles cried out as Derek started pounding him. 

Stiles sobbed as Derek fucked him, the pleasure inside of him building, but his climax was elusive. Whereas Derek normally loved making him cum multiple times during sex, this time he seemed to be hitting him everywhere but where Stiles really needed it.

“Fuck, baby,” Derek grunted, his hips jerking wildly. “I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in you, fuck.”

And Derek came, and Stiles sobbed, his own orgasm still eluding him, even as he felt Derek spurting inside of him.

Derek shuddered on top of him, seemingly ignoring Stiles’ frustration, but whispering, “I love you”s and “I love your pussy so much” comments over and over in his ear.

Stiles fucking hated him right then.

He sobbed again as Derek pulled out his still hard cock. He hit Derek in the shoulder.

Derek laughed down at him. 

“Oh, is my little girl upset?” he asked, and teased at Stiles’ hole with the head of his cock. “It’s no fun when someone leaves you wanting, is it?”

Stiles would have murdered him if he could figure out how. Right now, though, he so desperately wanted to come.

“I don’t know,” Derek said, seeming to be thinking about it. “Only good girls should really get to come. And you’ve been so bad. Do you think you’ve earned it?” 

“Please, Derek,” Stiles sobbed, wanting him back inside, wanting to fucking come. “Please, Daddy, let me come.”

“Hm.” Derek said, and he’d moved his fingers to Stiles pussy, playing at the lips, still teasing. “Do you promise to be a good girl for me from now on?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be a good girl. Please let your good girl come,” Stiles begged.  
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Derek said, and pulled Stiles’ hips up so he was practically standing on his head on the bed, Derek holding him up by his pelvis as he buried his face in Stiles’ pussy. 

Stiles was exploding 5 seconds later.

He must have passed out because the next thing he knew, Derek was putting a bottle of water to his lips to make him drink.

“Just a sip, Stiles,” Derek was saying, coaxing him back awake. “You lost a lot of fluids there.”

Stiles took a drink and then another. He must have been thirsty, because soon the bottle was empty, and Derek was setting it on the night stand by his side of the bed.

Stiles stretched, enjoying the afterglow, and the warmth of his ass. He also noted, “Mmm, you’re naked,” as Derek turned back to him, and held him close.

“My girl is always so observant,” Derek teased him, even as he settled them into their favorite position, Stiles cuddled against his chest, and Derek’s arms around him, one hand settling on his ass cheeks.

“Ow,” Stiles said, more out of contrariness than actual pain, though it certainly still stung. “Did you have to be so hard with those?” he complained, already falling asleep.

“Yes, I think I did,” Derek said, sounding smug. “My little girl was getting way out of line.” Derek paused, then said more seriously, “Did you not like it?”

“Mmm, no,” Stiles murmured into his chest. “I liked my spanking, Daddy.”

Derek relaxed, and whispered to him. “Good. Because Daddy plans on disciplining his little girl a LOT more often.” 

Stiles probably should have been more concerned about that statement, but he was already mostly asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr.


End file.
